


Deliberations

by ordinaryorbit



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Episode: s21e11 She Paints for Vengeance, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22530112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ordinaryorbit/pseuds/ordinaryorbit
Summary: This may just be the longest three hours of Rafael Barba's life.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 78





	Deliberations

Rafael leans against his desk at the front of the lecture hall, trying to focus on the student who is speaking. Her answer is long-winded and convoluted, offering too much information while missing the heart of the issue. The student is clearly trying to impress him but is failing by a mile.  
  
He should be formulating a response in his head, but the only thing he can think is _2:45_. Two hours and forty-five minutes have passed since the jury began deliberating. Two hours and forty-five minutes since Sonny last texted him.  
  
When the first hour had passed, Rafael thought it was a good sign. Juries that come back immediately, in his experience, are almost all acquittals. By the time the second hour had passed, he was getting nervous. When juries take too long, that usually means there’s a hold-out.  
  
Now, at two hours and forty-five minutes, Rafael is starting to panic. Even though he knows intellectually that it’s still within the normal timeframe, this isn’t any normal case. This is Sonny’s first trial. And so Rafael’s heart is racing, and his brow is perspiring, and he feels a bit nauseous. If Sonny loses, it will crush him.  
  
“Professor Barba? _Professor?_ ”  
  
“Yes?” Rafael says, bringing himself back to the class in front of him. “What is it?”  
  
“Are you ok?” the girl who had been talking asks, tentatively. “You usually have some sort of criticism after we give an answer, but you didn’t say anything this time.”  
  
“I’m fine,” Rafael snaps. “Your answer was fine,” he adds a bit more gently, and the statement is met by the shocked faces of his students. “In fact, I think you’ve all got a handle on these readings, so we’re going to end a few minutes early today. Excuse me.”  
  
And then Rafael grabs his coffee and his satchel and strides out of the lecture hall before any of the students can intercept him to ask questions. He gives a sigh of relief once he makes it to the hallway. Now he can panic in peace. Usually he loves the performative thrill of leading a lecture hall full of students, but today he cannot deal with other people.  
  
“Rafael!”  
  
So much for escaping human interaction. Rafael turns and sees the senior criminal law professor.  
  
“Hi Martha.”  
  
“I’m glad I caught you. Rafael, I wanted to let you know that we’re going to have a new criminal law professorship next semester.”  
  
This is the conversation Rafael has spent all year waiting for. Here it is, the opportunity to convert his lecturer’s position into something more permanent.   
  
“Thanks for letting me know. I am definitely interested in applying.” Ideally, he thinks, at a time when his insides are not churning because Sonny’s jury has been deliberating for what must now surely be two hours and fifty minutes.  
  
“Do you have any ideas about what courses you would want to teach if you were offered the position?”  
  
Rafael ascertains that he has just stumbled into an impromptu job interview. He has to pull himself together. It’s not like he hasn’t been imagining what he would teach if he were liberated from the first-year core subjects. He’s got this.  
  
“Yes actually, I’ve been wanting to teach a seminar on unconscious bias in the criminal justice system. And a survey course on the use of electronic evidence in trials.”  
  
Martha nods approvingly. “Both sound like very relevant topics. Why don’t you come up with a sample syllabus that I can circulate to the rest of the hiring committee?”  
  
“Will do. Have a good day Martha!”  
  
Rafael ducks into the bathroom and checks his phone. Still no message from Sonny. And three hours have now passed. Fuck. Why hasn’t the jury come back yet?  
  
He splashes some water onto his face to try to calm down. He was always nervous waiting for his own juries to come back, but nothing like this.  
  
As Rafael walks through the law school lobby, his phone gives a ping. He takes it out of his pocket with shaky hands. There is one word:  
  
 _Guilty_  
  
“YES!!!” His cry echoes up to the vaulted ceiling.  
  
Rafael looks around surreptitiously to see if anyone has heard his involuntary utterance. A few students are giving him strange looks.  
  
Oh no. The dean is walking in his direction. Surely she just heard him, and saw his accompanying jump for joy.  
  
It’s fine. Totally fine. He will just act like it is no big deal. Rafael stands up straighter, tugs at his jacket to make sure nothing is out of place, and flashes her a smile.  
  
“Good day, Dean.”  
  
“Good day, Mr. Barba.”  
  
Before she can ask him why he was screaming and jumping inside the law school, Rafael picks up his pace as the two of them pass. He puts a look of harried concentration on his face, to give the impression that he is rushing to make an important appointment.  
  
Which he is. It’s just that the important appointment is celebrating Sonny’s victory.   
  
Sonny arrives home soon after Rafael does. He is beaming.  
  
“I am so proud of you,” Rafael says as he brings his boyfriend into a long hug. He can feel Sonny’s body buzzing with more energy than usual, clearly still high on adrenaline.   
  
“Thanks Raf.”  
  
“You know I would be just as proud of you even if you hadn’t won.”   
  
“I know. But it feels so fucking good to win.”  
  
“It does.” Rafael knows the feeling deep in his bones. It’s one of the things he misses about being a trial attorney. The thrill, the accomplishment, the camaraderie. Speaking of which:  
  
“Why aren’t you out celebrating with the squad?”   
  
Rafael will hurt them if they deny Sonny this post-win ritual.  
  
“We’re going out tomorrow night, it worked best for everyone. Besides, tonight I want to celebrate with you.”  
  
Sonny pivots them until Rafael’s back is against the wall, making clear exactly what type of celebration he means. They might as well take advantage of Sonny’s excess of energy, which will no doubt make for some fantastic fucking. But Rafael has to ask something first.  
  
“Did you eat anything today, Sonny?” Because Rafael could never stomach much food himself on jury days.  
  
“Just a piece of toast this morning. But I was so nervous I threw it up.”  
  
“Well you’ve got to eat something first. I’m not going to have you fainting on me mid-orgasm.”  
  
“Why can’t I just eat you?” Sonny mouths at Rafael’s jaw and then inhales against it, as if he is trying to breath in Rafael’s essence.   
  
“I may be delectable, Sonny, but I lack essential nutrients.”  
  
“Fine,” Sonny concedes, pulling back reluctantly. “But I don’t think my stomach can handle too much yet.”  
  
“How about I make you some soup. You can go change while I heat it up.”  
  
When Rafael goes into the bedroom ten minutes later, he finds Sonny sprawled on the bed in a T-shirt and boxers, fast asleep. Rafael remembers this too, the crash that comes after the adrenaline high. When the sleepless nights finally catch up to the caffeine-fueled days.  
  
The soup and the mind-blowing sex can both wait. Rafael draws the covers up over Sonny and closes the blinds to block out the late-afternoon sun. He gives Sonny a kiss on the forehead before going to pour himself a scotch.  
  
That night, Rafael sleeps well for the first time in a week.


End file.
